


Strangelove.

by Wildergirl



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - College/University, Betty is a snoop, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Jughead is an actor, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, but betty does go to Yale, im always down for jarchie friendship, not focused in college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26392165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildergirl/pseuds/Wildergirl
Summary: Jughead looked uncomfortable. "I can... uh... I can explain." His brows wrinkled. "I think.""Explain?!" she shrieked, stumbling back. It was baffling how the actor had gone from stone cold killer to deer-caught-in-the-headlights in a matter of minutes. "You're-""The greatest actor of our generation?" He sent her a sheepish smile."A vampire!" Betty squeaked. "How is this even... No, I don't even care," she let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm calling the cops. You killed my best friend."Jughead's eyes widened. "No, I didn't," he groaned. "Well, I guess I did. But if you listen to me, Becky-""It's Betty!"or: Betty Cooper runs an Instagram page dedicated to getting scoop on young actors, and is paid to stalk Jughead Jones, a high profile cast member responsible for playing Clay Argent in popular teen drama "Strangelove." Though she's not prepared to find out what he's hiding. When she finds herself pulled into his world, her own is turned upside down, and she's forced to come face to face with the monster inside him.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews & Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 16
Kudos: 35





	1. Caught.

**Author's Note:**

> not fully edited, so sorry for mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy. :)
> 
> ...i have never had a pumpkin spiced latte.

* * *

21 years old and Betty Cooper had never tried a pumpkin spiced latte.

Contrary to popular belief; they weren't as nice as Betty thought they would be. She had lost count of how many commercials would pop up on her phone or in the middle of a YouTube video; in your face bright colours and grinning teens urging her to try the new Starbucks special.

The ads promised a perfectly autumnal drink, rich and creamy which blessed your taste-buds after that first sip. It was the go-to drink for college students and influencers, the perfect aesthetic for any celebrity Instagram profile, along with plates of avocado toast or over-priced fruit bowls no commoner could ever afford.

Or hell, even want. 

The commute home from the college campus wasn't long, and Betty took long strides, pushing her way through the crowd of college kids. Classes were done for the day, and it was nearing 6PM, early evening rush hour. Drinking coffee while simultaneously fast-walking was a recipe for disaster, especially when her hair spiralled in a golden whirlwind.

The autumn breeze tousled Betty's hair and pinched her cheeks. The dry heat that had been in the wind just last week had either evaporated into the sky or leached into the earth. It gave life to the long grass at the side of the road on Main Street, still yellowing from the summer heatwave.

Sweater weather was approaching, and she was ready for it, already wrapped in her favourite cornflower blue scarf for the night.

Betty had spent her lunch break outside, leaning against a tree in the college courtyard with her laptop strategically balanced on her knees, basking in the last slithers of Summer hanging on, bleeding into fall. From that spot, she had glimpsed them; kids walking in groups or individually spread out on freshly cut grass, most of them holding white cups with the telltale bright green Starbucks siren plastered on the side. That had been it. Betty was sick of ignoring this supposedly god-like drink which had taken her college by storm. It was seasonal, sure, and had been around for a while but Betty had never paid attention to it. She had been happy with her usual black coffee (no milk, two sugars) but two years into her college career, she found herself getting inevitably brainwashed by those damn ads. She had to get her hands on it. 

When Betty took a sip, however, she found herself disappointed. The flavour was okay, she guessed; a mix of bitter and sweet on her tongue. It tasted like she expected, except more cardboard. Like Betty had tasted it before. But she was expecting more. After all, the ads had promised an "out of world experience" and "you'll never drink another normal coffee again". Well, Betty was sure she would. After standing in a line for ten minutes and nearly missing her assignment submission, the drink wasn't worth it. Though part of her expected it. Over-priced themed coffee was bound to be a let-down, after all.

Typical, she thought. The latte was piping hot and she took little sips, hurrying her pace. Despite the tasteless flavour, it was nice to hold, nursing her fingers around the styrofoam cup, a familiar comfort which was a relief from the cool breeze starting to turn tumultuous around her, as if Betty was its target.

There was a positive though. Looking up through straying curls she really should have kept in a ponytail, Betty watched an expanse of golden speckled leaves be swept into the air by a particularly strong gust. The crowd around her mostly ignored the smattering of gold and brown but Betty found herself drawn to it, as if reality had split open for a moment, allowing something more to bleed through. The leaves in the wind were like sails without boats, carefree and joyful. Their colours sung to the dark blue of the sky approaching twilight, and the green grass below. It was almost magic the way they moved, dancing in the air.

Betty had loved kicking through them as a child and even then as an adult, she took the time to jump through leaves scattered on the ground, keeping a steady hold of the latte. It was like being a kid again, breathing in the strong smell of petrichor from last night's rainfall. All that was missing was her mother's famous gingerbread cookies. As if the leaves were alive, they danced around her, and she in turn found herself smiling as they fell like golden confetti. Connecticut wasn't home, even when Yale felt like it was. Betty's stomach twisted with the familiar feeling of homesickness. 

Riverdale was greeting her and even being thousands of miles away from home, she still felt connected to the small town as though tethered to the very foundations; her soul bound to the streets and houses, and people that made her. A feeling of sweet melancholy hit her, and Betty allowed herself to revel in memories of late night Pops burgers and Summer outings at the swimming hole. Strawberry milkshakes and familiar friends surrounding her, bathed in warm purple and eerie crimson.

Throughout her teenage-hood, Betty had always joked that her town was the perfect setting for a teen drama. Even if Riverdale was perhaps one of the most boring towns in America, a fictional narrative could definitely be woven around it, at least if a writer ever visited their town.

She could see it now; an opening scene, maybe a birds eye view of the town, the camera slowly getting closer, drifting over the trees and Sweetwater River. Like Twilight, but less dark. There was a filter, of course letting the viewer know it was a gritty teen drama. "From a distance, it presents itself like so many other small towns all over the world," a shady voice-over would murmur. " _Safe. Decent. Innocent. Look closer, though?"_

_"-And you start seeing the shadows underneath."_

Cue ominous music. 

_"The name of our town is Riverdale,"_ Betty imagined the voice-over murmuring, his or her tone dripping with mystery and intrigue, enticing viewers further into the show. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Betty's gaze flitted across an advertisement looming above her; a billboard stood proud over the city, practically screaming at its citizens to look up. Under the late setting sun, dark colours jumped out, various shades of red and black automatically catching her eye. Her blue eyes flicked across three faces staring down at her, brooding, with that famous "sexy" look all TV stars had. They were of course perfectly polished, and the poster was most definitely photo-shopped, but Betty couldn't seem to be able to look away from flawless porcelain skin and warm brown eyes flecked with gold. It almost felt like their eyes were following her. 

If her town was turned into a TV show, she figured it would be just like Strangelove.

Betty stopped walking and took another sip of now lukewarm coffee. Leaves still swirled in the air, but her attention was on the billboard. The name of the show jumped out at her. STRANGELOVE. COMING THIS FALL TO HBO. She knew the show well, at least for being an outsider. They were on their third season, and had a pretty big fan base.

Betty wasn't an avid watcher but she did know that Strangelove was a mixture of Gossip Girl, and maybe some Twin Peaks thrown in for good measure. The plot was typical; a group of kids delving into the mysteries of their hometown, while of course dealing with the trials and tribulations of High School. The cast members stood together on a background of foggy mountains; their hair colours clashed, crimson red curls and tousled obsidian cascading, while black tattoos decorated their skin, rune-like markings covering their arms. 

Letting out a breath, Betty tightened her grip on her coffee. No actual human being looked like that. Even so, her eyes trailed back to the characters, drinking each one in, especially the boy standing with his arms folded, raven hair dipping in eyes a shade of green that was a mixture of the sky and grass. All of his emotions bundled into a deep cyan. The actor's name was on Betty's tongue but it had escaped her the second she had lain eyes on him. The guy was famous, rising to the top of TV stardom after being cast in Strangelove. Betty narrowed her eyes a little, racking her brains for his name. 

What was it again?

She jumped slightly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, when her phone vibrated in her jeans. Luckily though, the early evening commute had thinned, and Betty was left standing between fleeting businessmen and high school kids congregating in groups. Ahead of her was a Barnes and Noble, which looked welcoming, the windows flooded with warm mellow light. Tempting. But Betty knew she would be lured by their vast collection of books that never seemed to end.

Reaching into her pocket, Betty's fingers curled around the familiar curve of her phone and pulled out her battered 6s. An old model, sure, but it was her baby. The screen was lit up with a plethora of notifications, most of them Tumblr and Twitter. To pay for college, as well as luxuries she needed, Betty was running a side hustle. It sounded initially exciting when she happened to mention it to a friend or classmate, but really, when she thought about it, it was pretty lame. 

Betty ran a multi-fandom Instagram account, dedicated to getting dirt on all the top TV stars, which went as far as sneaking onto TV sets and cast members trailers, looking for scoop. If Betty was good at something, that "something" would be snooping. Though most of the time her requests weren't too heavy, like "Can you find out if this actor is cheating on his girlfriend?" which garnered maybe ten or twenty dollars. But then came gold mines, fans straight out asking her to stalk their favourite celebrity in question. 

At first, she had declined. But then Betty saw what they were offering, and it was too much of an opportunity to ignore. Stalking was...fairly easy. As a child she had eavesdropped on doors, at bedtime pinning her best ear to the dusty boards to hear what the grown-ups had to say. As a teen she had known everything about everyone, so why not put those skills to something worthwhile? Her first gig was an actor called Jordan Klump, who was rumoured to be cheating on his long-time boyfriend. Spoiler alert: He was. After crouching outside his mansion for nearly four hours, Betty had snapped photos of Jordan making out with a mysterious buff dude. She sent the photos to the client, and was paid in minutes. Jordan was trending a few hours later, but Betty stayed off Twitter.

If she wanted to label it, Betty was pretty sure she was a self-employed Papp - or perhaps a PI. Her anonymous Instagram account was thriving, with nearly 50k followers. 

At the very top was a series of Instagram banners. 

**A.4567 has sent you a message.** Huh. A throw-away account.

Curious, Betty swiped the banner open and the screen flashed to a series of messages, all sent a few minutes ago. 

**Hi! <3**

**Okay, so I know you do requests, and I'm willing to pay extra for this. I saw your story where you told everyone which locations you can go to, and I couldn't help myself. Would it be possible to look into the cast of Strangelove? (Specifically, Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge. Though I would be happier if you looked into Reggie Mantle and Chuck Clayton too.) The fandom is going kinda crazy rn, lmao. The cast are acting weird and different, and it's not like them at all. They cancelled two meetups, and recently Jughead Jones was like, I can't even explain it? They're barely seen in public, and refuse to see fans, and we're all like wtf is happening. I guess I could be paranoid, but I speak for everyone right now lol. Can you see what's going on with them?**

Jughead Jones. Betty almost kicked herself. Of course. The three of them were practically Instagram royalty. To their fans, anyway. When she went on Twitter to start snooping for a client, there was a trending topic with their name pretty much every day, giving the K-pop fans a run for their money. Strangelove was ridiculously popular, and part of Betty could see why. An attractive cast, cohesive plot, and of course, melodramatic crying.

Betty could see the appeal. 

The second message was shorter: **I can PayPal you 100 upfront. And if you get anything else, like pics of their trailers/possessions I can pay extra lol.**

The third message looked like the girl was freaking out **: If you could do this, it would be AMAZING and you'll be helping a lot of us who are worrying about them.**

**Finally, the last message: Send me your email, and I'll PayPal you 100.**

Betty looked up from the message, her eyes once again falling on the billboard. Huh. As far as she knew, the Strangelove cast were squeaky clean. The sky was darkening quickly so if she was going to do this, she had to do it now. Throwing the latte in a nearby trash can, Betty typed a quick reply, confirming the request, and asking the address. Her fingers hovered for a moment, casting her eyes back the billboard, back to Jughead Jones's face. She half wondered what the boy could be hiding. Or maybe the fan girl was just crazy. It was cash anyway, and Betty wasn't going to say no to 100 dollars. 

She sent her throw-away email, quickly, bouncing on the toes of her ballet flats. The temperature was dropping fast and she craved another hot drink in her hands.

A few moments later her phone buzzed again and the girl had sent the address, along with several emoji's Betty's coffee drunk brain couldn't distinguish. Apparently they were filming on the outskirts of New Haven. It was maybe a twenty minute car ride, or less if she floored it. An email banner popped up, telling her "Alexa Stirling" (so much for the throwaway account) had sent her 100 dollars and Betty felt a rush of excitement. It was an easy job. All she had to do was pretend to be a fan and slink into one of their trailers at the first chance she got. From experience, it wasn't a hard job; the crew were far too busy freaking out about production schedules to bother watching a twenty-something play cloak and dagger. 

She was typing out a quick "Thanks!" and telling the fan she would message later with results, when a text popped up: "When are you home?"

Betty rolled her eyes. Kevin. Her house mate, as well as best friend. She had met the boy in her first year and since then, they were inseparable. Though most of the time Betty wanted to kill him for eating her food, and holding Dungeon and Dragons role-playing games in the middle of the night. Instead of messaging back, she tapped on the text, and then his number, lifting the phone to her ear. Kevin answered on the first ring.

"We need milk." His mouth was full of something and Betty had no doubt it was cereal. She couldn't resist rolling her eyes but her lips quirked into a small smile.

"Uh-huh." Betty leaned against a closed store window, tipping her head back, "Is that because you drank it all this morning?"

Kevin spluttered, swallowing whatever he was eating. "No! I went to class early, and-"

"And you used half a carton for your Cheerios, Kev."

The boy sighed. "Just please get milk. I've had a long day and I'm being crushed by some 10 year old on Fortnite. Also, they've put the whole season of Glembrooke on Netflix so I was thinking we can order takeout and have a binge sesh."

"I've got a better idea," Betty found herself looking at the billboard again, once more frowning at the cast members. The more she stared, the more menacing they looked. She blinked rapidly and tore her gaze away. "I need your car, as well as your company."

She could practically hear the breath leaving his lungs. "Wait, are you, like, stalking someone again?"

Betty briefly considered telling Kevin it wasn't stalking but then she would be lying to herself. "Sure. The stalking," she said, "would you like to be the Robin to my Batman?"

Kevin scoffed. "Depends. Who are we pursuing?"

"The Strangelove cast," Betty replied, frowning at the sky. As night fell the blue haze of day lifted to reveal the stars, and her eyes followed each one, flitting across scattered clouds. "A fan messaged me on Instagram offering me 100 dollars."

"That's pretty desperate, though I appreciate the dedication." Kevin paused before, "Isn't that the show where they're all covered in those weird tattoos? I watched a few episodes, though the writing kinda went downhill after season one."

"Yeah." Betty glanced at the billboard, this time making sure not to make eye contact with the cast. Perhaps she was paranoid but the poster looked pretty unnerving, twisting her gut into uncomfortable knots. She'd never seen Strangelove, so god knows what the tattoo's meant. Maybe it was some kind of "chosen one" type thing. Very cliche. 

"And you're looking into them?" Kevin's interest was piqued from the sound of his voice. "Aren't they like literal Disney stars? They left Disney and went straight to HBO. Which is a bad decision. Disney stars are like, well known to go completely nuts."

"Disney stars?" she parroted. 

"Yeah. Well, at least one of them. I saw it somewhere."

Betty nodded slowly, even when the boy couldn't see her. "Uh-huh. You saw it on a random website, I'm guessing."

"No. Anyway, why Strangelove? They dominated the teen choice awards this year. I doubt they're snorting cocaine."

Betty hummed. "The fan seems to think there's something going on with them, so I'm going to check them out." She paused. "And I could really do with a side-kick."

"Betty, if we get caught-"

She cut him off. "I never get caught, Kev. And besides, I saw on Twitter that one of the main cast members knows Fangs Fogarty. You know, the guy on-"

"Glembrooke!" Kevin practically squeaked down the phone. As far as Betty knew, the cast of Glembrooke - a similar show on a different network, this time featuring vampires or werewolves. Betty had forgotten which one. They were pretty clean so there was never a chance to investigate them; much to Kevin's disdain. There was movement, what sounded like Kevin diving off the couch and grabbing his jacket, then the jingling of his keys, which was like music to her ears. "Okay, I'll pick you up. Where are you? And where's the address? I don't have much gas so if it's a long distance, you're paying," he paused. 

"In milk. I want three cartons to myself, and I get complete ownership of the lounge this weekend."

Betty swallowed a groan. "Dungeons and Dragons?"

"Do you want me to come or not?" More sounds. The slam of their door shutting.

"Fine. I'll get the milk on our way home," Betty looked around, "I'm on Main Street by Barnes and Noble. In the politest way possible, get your ass over here pronto."

"On my way." On Kevin's end there was the sound of a car door slamming, and the familiar burst of an engine rumbling to life, his beaten stereo droning out what sounded like the tail end of a Fall Out Boy song. Kevin started singing along, and Betty could hear him backing out of the driveway. "I've gotta go, okay? I'll be there in ten."

To Betty's surprise, Kevin was right on time. She lost herself in a daze, trying not to make eye contact with the Strangelove billboard, after getting curious and googling the show. According to Wikipedia, Strangelove was a mystery/crime drama about a group of kids in detention who end up killing one of their own, and through a series of flashbacks, the story unravelled. Typical teen drama. Though the markings still weren't explained. 

After getting bored with her search, Betty shoved her phone into her pocket and counted wads of chewing gum stuck to the sidewalk. She had counted twelve wads of gum and two cigarette butts when a black Sedan pulled up, yanking her from reverie. she had barely noticed her gaze once more settling on Jughead Jones's unsmiling face, as if the actor himself was staring deep into her soul. No matter what she did, her eyes always found his, even subconsciously.

"Hey, sleepy head!" An all too familiar voice made her jump.

Betty blinked rapidly, squinting in the deluge of headlights blinding her.

The car had been a gift for Kevin's twentieth, and he treated it like a baby. The windows rolled down, and Kevin peeked out, offering her a grin. His brown hair was a shaggy mess like he hadn't brushed it, and yet he still managed to pull it off. "Don't." Betty hurried over and pulled the door open, jumping into the back and settling on warm, plush seats. She yanked the door shut. "I know exactly what you're going to say."

Kevin didn't idle the car, stamping on the gas, setting them off speeding down the road. "What did you think I was going to say?" he flashed her an innocent look. "Get in loser we're going stalking?" He pulled a face, mocking her expression. "I would never!"

"You're an asshole." Betty chuckled, unable to resist a smile. Kevin was a good, but reckless driver. He drove down Main Street like a maniac. 

"I'm an asshole with a car." Kevin corrected. "I'm also your best friend willing to break the law so you can stalk celebrities."

Betty sat up straighter. "First of all, it's not breaking the law." she said, even when part of her knew that's exactly what it was. "Secondly, this is literally my job."

Kevin twisted in his seat to sneak a look at her. "So you're not the tiniest bit excited to get up close and personal with Clay Argent?"

"Who?" Betty raised a brow. 

"That's his character in Strangelove." Kevin snorted, his green flecked gaze flicking to the car mirror. "I can see you're blushing, Betty. Do you have a little crush?"

That caught her off guard. His voice was teasing. Her cheeks felt flushed, and Betty quickly swiped at them. "No." she said, leaning back into smooth leather. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you were staring at the Strangelove billboard when I pulled up, and I'm pretty sure it was Jughead you were looking at," Kevin tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in a beat. "I gotta hand it to ya Betts, I didn't think emo celeb guys were your thing."

Betty shot the boy a pointed look. "Aren't they your thing?" 

Kevin shrugged. "Sure. Jughead is eye-candy. But I prefer the jock-like character. The gentle giant trying to do the right thing, but always fucking up." Outside, traffic was thinning, and they were heading out of New Haven. The sky was pitch black now, and Betty found herself entranced by slithers of moonlight poking from the clouds. Kevin was talking, but she half-tuned out. "Y'know, like Finn from Glee. He was the token jock character, but he had development and was able to grow. He was written as a bit of an ass, but as the episodes progressed we saw his home life and inner struggles-"

Kevin's rant faded out, like his voice was being sucked away, and Betty watched traffic fly by in a blur of colours, wincing when a dull thud started inching across the back of her skull. Fuck. Headaches always struck at the worst times. The coffee earlier probably didn't help. She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples gingerly. Slowly, Kevin's voice crept into existence once again, filling her ears with her best friend's manic tone.

"- A masterpiece. Finn was my favourite character, and hell, I cried when-" the boy stopped talking abruptly, "Betty, are you even listening to me?"

Betty opened her eyes and nodded. "Mmm." she murmured. "You were ranting about Glee."

"Passionately talking." Kevin corrected, "did you listen to anything I just said?"

"Uh-huh." she hummed. The pain wasn't bad, more of an annoyance. "You were 'passionately talking' about how much you love the jock from Glee."

Kevin grinned. "Well, anyway, that's who I prefer. You like the bad boys, and I like the jocks. The redhead in Strangelove is pretty much my dream guy. While you're googly eyes for the one who looks sleep deprived. Like he just stepped off the set of Twilight."

Betty chose to ignore that, instead focusing on the address. The ride hadn't been long, and she was already seeing signs matching the address on the message. They drove past a McDonald's drive through, and her stomach growled, reminding her she'd missed dinner. 

"It's just down the road," she said, pointing forwards. "According to the fan they film there regularly. The place is called Pembrooke studios."

Surprisingly, Kevin didn't continue teasing her. He nodded, giving her a half-hearted salute. "Aye, aye captain."

Pembrooke Studios towered over them when they reached the gate, and Kevin leaned out of the window, flashing the security guard a smile. Betty could tell the place was private. The only way in was the gate, and beyond that, she spotted smaller buildings, and what looked like white tents and floodlights.

When she leaned forward, Betty heard the sound of excited chatter from outside. When she turned her head, a group of teenage girls were practically bouncing up and down. "Evening." Kevin said, already gushing charm. "We're here for the fan tour Strangelove are doing? They told us to just turn up at the gate."

Kevin was a natural. Betty braced herself for the guy to turn them away, but he nodded and opened the gate, signalling them forward. "Visitors parking is straight forward," he said, offering them a smile. "Have a good time, kids."

"We will!" Kevin chirped. Kevin drove through the gate, and they found a parking space easily. "Okay." he cut the engine, and turned to Betty, raising a brow. 

"What's the plan?"

Betty straightened up, grabbing her bag. "You're going to join the fan tour, and I'm going to sneak away, and get into one of their trailers." 

"And if they're locked?" Kevin smirked. 

She was ready for that. She pulled a hair slide from her jeans pocket, waving it in his face. "Works like a charm."

Her best friend looked sceptical, but nodded anyway. Betty spied a congregation of kids and teenagers gathering at the other side of the parking lott. Kevin followed her gaze. "Alright, well we can go over together, express how much we love the show, act like total fan-girls, and I can keep them busy while you do your thing."

"Sounds like a plan." Betty pushed the door open and jumped out, wincing at the chilling breeze cutting into her cheeks. Kevin locked the car and joined her. He linked his arm with hers. "The things I do for you," he murmured, gesturing across the lott. "Shall we?"

She couldn't resist a snort, elbowing the boy in the ribs. "You're not doing this for free!"

"Case and point." Kevin murmured, tugging her arm. Betty cringed at the sound of her converse grazing the concrete. They joined the group of girls, and one guy, led by a middle aged woman in a pink sweater. She smiled widely. "Are you guys here for the tour?" she asked, with perhaps the widest grin Betty had ever seen.

"Yep." Kevin answered, grabbing Betty's hand. "We're like, huge fans of Strangelove."

"Wonderful!" The woman exclaimed. She pulled out piece of paper and pen, slightly manic eyes flicking to Kevin. "Are you two Lou and Riley?"

Betty stiffened, but she maintained a smile. "Yes." she said, when Kevin sent her a panicked look. When the woman nodded and moved to the others, she let out a breath of relief. Thank god for Unisex names. Though if the real Lou and Riley showed up, they would be in trouble. The woman introduced herself as Mia, their tour guide, and gave them all visitors stickers. "Okay! Well, lets get started, shall we? First of all, are there any questions regarding the show or cast?"

Mia looked like she was going to spontaneously combust from excitement. She led them out of the parking lot, towards the filming tents.

A red haired girl's hand flew up and she squealed, falling into her friend. "Where's Archie right now?"

Mia cleared her throat. "Archie is currently on set!" she trilled, "but don't worry! There will be an opportunity to meet the cast when the tour is over."

That set the group into practical hysterics, and Betty forced herself to squeal along with them, waiting for the perfect time to slip away. Walking slowly, Betty nodded and smiled in all the right places, her gaze trailing over the set. Kevin kept to her side, eagerly asking questions about filming and production, while the girls asked about members of the cast. "Does Lilly die this season?" the redhead demanded. "What about Issac? Do they get together? I heard a rumour Lilly's supposed to get pregnant!"

Mia interrupted, thank god. The girl was cute, sure, fangirling about her favourites show. But her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. The tour guide, however, looked barely fazed. "I can't share information like that, but you will be able to meet our executive producer Brian Seawood, so please save your questions regarding the script for him," she winked at the group, "There will also be a special surprise."

More squeals. Betty was getting impatient. She nudged Kevin, and after meeting her eye, he nodded. "What about the studios?" he asked, "How long have they been here for?"

Mia clapped her hands together. "That's a wonderful question!"

"Is it?" The redhead said out-loud, with an eye-roll. 

Her friend agreed. "When can we meet the cast?"

"Yeah," the guy joined in. "Didn't the brochure say we can look around the sets? I didn't come for a history lesson."

Mia pulled a face. Her tone was cheery, but firm. "That will come soon, guys. Right now, I believe Riley asked a question!" she smiled at a grinning Kevin. "Now, Pembrooke Studios started out as a boys school, if you can believe it! Established in 1926-"

"Go." Kevin murmured, when the rest of the group were distracted, Mia embroiled in the history. He gestured behind them. "Trailers are that way."

Betty nodded, grateful for the distraction. She started to back away, but he grabbed her arm. "Betts?"

"Yeah?"

Kevin sent her a lopsided smile. "Please don't get caught."

Shooting the boy a smile, Betty tugged away. "I never get caught." she whispered back, before twisting around and lunging into a run. Kevin's distraction wouldn't work forever, and thank god for the beauty of darkness. She was seamlessly able to blend into the dim, bleeding into the shadows. Not many people were around, except costume designers pushing racks of clothes along cobbled concrete. The tour guide had mentioned the cast were on set, so Betty had to be quick.

The cast trailer's were situated behind another gate she had to vault over. There were five of them, each spread out several meters apart. 

Betty tried the first one, hurrying up the steps. There was a sign on the door. In block capitals it said: ARCHIE ANDREWS - "ISSAC STRANGELOVE"

The main character, Betty figured. She tried the door, but it didn't budge. 

"Shit." 

The hair slide would get her in, but first she had to try all of them, and hopefully, by chance, one of them would be open. There was no way she had time to lock pick each one.

Moving to the second one, Betty was confident. This time, the name VERONICA LODGE - "LILLY MONTGOMERY" was plastered with marker pen across the plastic sign. 

Trying the door, it was locked. 

Betty bit back a hiss of frustration, before trying the third one. JUGHEAD JONES - "CLAY ARGENT". To her surprise, when she tried the door, it slid open, and she almost fell through. "Finally." she breathed, peeking her head inside. The trailer was dark, though it looked empty. With one last look behind her, Betty held her breath and quietly let herself through. The trailer was what she expected, though what she wasn't expecting was the smell. The aroma of something off drifted into her nose, the stink strong and pungent. Boys, she thought, the corners of her lips curving into a small smile. She found a light switch, clicking it on. 

Even actors were messy. There were clothes strewn across the floor, hair products and chip packets covering his vanity. Betty took small steps, whipping her phone out and snapping pictures. There was a mouldy candy bar on the floor. Betty pulled a face. 

There was the source of the smell. The chocolate was crushed into the carpet, and when she leaned forward, Betty caught slithers of green speckling the bar. 

Not exactly scandalous information, but she took a picture anyway. The fan did say anything extra would mean more cash. Who knows, maybe Jughead's fans were into that.

The actors phone was sitting on his vanity, connected to the charger. Bingo. Betty lunged towards it. It was a brand new iPhone model, one Betty hadn't even heard of. The phone case was decorated with mini skulls. Cute. The phone was on, but there was a four digit pass-code. She took pictures of the lock screen, which was of him and an older looking woman. His mom? When Betty swiped down, to her surprise, his notifications popped up, a plethora of texts all sent from the same person, nearly an hour ago.

Archie. The name was in block capitals. Betty squinted. Jughead's cast mate. She scanned the messages, her gaze skimming each one.

**07:55 pm: Archie: Hungry?**

**08:05 pm: Archie: Jug? Answer your texts.**

**08:05:pm: Archie: Are you seriously being an ass right now?**

**08:06:pm: Archie: If you're looking for a fix, I left some in your mini fridge. That's all we have. But be careful, okay? If we get seen with it? we're done. Over.**

**08:08: pm: Archie: Love you, Bro. I'll see you on set, okay? I'm getting my hair done right now. Ronnie wants to talk tonight. Your place? I bought Mario Odyssey on Switch lol**

**08:10 pm: Archie: Do you have my Switch charger :(**

That was where the texts ended, and she needed the pass-code to get into the phone properly. Betty tightened her grip on her own phone, all the breath sucked from her lungs. Her heart was stampeding. Archie Andrews was talking about a "fix" which was surely drugs.

Which perfectly answered why the Strangelove cast, or at least the ones in question, were acting weird. Betty let out a shuddery breath, chills creeping down her spine. They were on drugs. Which wasn't surprising for young television actors. The Strangelove cast, however, were well known for being wholesome and "unproblematic".

And yet here they were, stashing drugs in their trailers.

Typical.

Before she could let herself feel compassion for the actors, Betty snapped photos of the texts. It was enough, she thought breathlessly. It was more than enough. 

But then her gaze found the mini fridge, and Betty bit her lip. Pictures of texts was good enough, but what about the real thing? If she got actual evidence of drugs inside Jughead Jones's trailer, the fan was bound to send extra cash, which she needed. 

His career, however, as well as Archie's- considering the texts- would be over. 

She didn't care. At least, that's what Betty told herself. He had millions, he'd survive. Betty, however, was barely able to afford her half of rent. Kneeling in front of the fridge, she mentally counted to five, curling her fingers around the handle, before pulling it open. Though when she peered inside, all Betty saw were candy bars and cans of Coke neatly stacked on the top shelf. On the bottom was a small black flask. 

Betty was reaching for it, when a voice sounded from outside. Her catapulted and she jumped up, slamming the fridge shut, and diving behind a clothing rack. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck!

She stayed still, gagging herself to hide her breaths. After several disorienting seconds, the trailer door flew open, and Betty cringed further into different variations of the same jacket. There was a small gap she was able to just about peek through. A boy came into view, and her heart flipped over when she recognised that all too familiar face on the Strangelove billboard. Except on the poster, he was glaring at the camera, his lips pursed into a grimace. Now however, Jughead Jones was smiling. He was dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, a leather jacket thrown over the top with the sleeves pulled up, revealing the rune like markings Betty saw on the poster. She couldn't help leaning forwards for a better look. In real life, the tattoos covering his arms and neck were beautiful, perfect intricate lines of obsidian decorating smooth olive skin.

"Sorry, my trailer is a mess." the actor chuckled. His voice was like wind chimes, and Betty found herself entranced. When Jughead came fully into view, Betty's chest tightened. His hair was a tousled mess of liquid onyx hanging in eyes shaded by Ray-bans. 

"That's okay." 

Betty stiffened at the sound of the voice. When she looked closer, daring herself a proper peek, Jughead was standing in front of Kevin with his arms folded. 

"You sure?" Jughead cocked his head, a smirk crawling across his lips. There was something unnerving about the way he was looking at Kevin. "I really should keep it tidy, but I'm busy these days, y'know?"

Kevin nodded. It took Betty a moment to realise her best friend's expression looked... wrong. His eyes were half lidded, his mouth slightly agape, as if he was catching flies.

Jughead hummed. "So, do you mind telling me why exactly you're here?" the actor pulled a face, his nose wrinkling. "You reek of guilt."

Something cold slipped down Betty's spine, slithering into her toes. Her breath thinned.

Kevin's expression was blank. "To get intel on you." he replied tonelessly. 

"Oh, really?" Jughead was circling the boy now, arms still folded across his chest. In the mellow light, his tattoos almost looked like they were moving, dancing across his skin. A trick of the light, she told herself. Surely. "And why is that?"

Kevin didn't hesitate. "My friend Betty was paid to check you guys out."

Shit. Betty had to get out. Kevin was singing like a canary. She eyed the exit, but part of her couldn't move. Part of her wanted to watch Jughead Jones pick her friend apart.

"Betty, huh?" His voice was like smooth chocolate dripping from his tongue. "And who is this Betty, hmm? Why is she getting you to do her dirty work?"

Kevin didn't reply, and Jughead moved closer to the boy, gripping his chin and forcing the boy's head forwards. "I believe I asked you a question."

"Betty got an anonymous tip that you and your cast mates have been acting out of character," Kevin droned. "The fan wanted answers, and paid Betty 100 dollars to sneak into your trailer."

Jughead cocked his head. "out of character?" he moved closer to Kevin, but the boy didn't move, blank eyes on nothing in particular. "I can't imagine why people would think that."

As he said those words, however, Jughead was standing so close to Kevin, his breath grazing Kevin's neck. "What about you, Kevin? Do you think I'm acting out of character?"

"No." Kevin said, automatically.

"Good." Jughead hummed. He took off the ray-bans, resting them on the top of his head. His eyes were green tinted with gold. "Come here," he gestured for Kevin to lean towards him. "I want to tell you something." a grin spread across his lips. "It's a secret."

Betty lost her breath. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, watching her best friend mindlessly arch his head towards the actor. Jugead moved to press his lips against Kevin's ears, but he didn't say anything. Instead, his lips trailed down, gliding along the curve of Kevin's throat, human features dripping away, his expression twisting, eyes flashing crimson. Jughead's hands whipped out, gripping Kevin's shoulders. His nostrils flared, a whine escaping his lips. "Fuck." he nuzzled the boy's skin, moaning softly, before breaking out into a grin, glistening needle points retracting. 

Not drugs, Betty thought dizzily.

Vampire. 

Jughead Jones was a vampire.

"Ronnie's going to fucking kill me." he groaned, before sinking his teeth into Kevin's neck, and ripping out his throat. 

Betty was screaming. She wasn't sure how she'd ended up lying on her back, the clothes rack tipped on its side, but she didn't care. All she was seeing was blood. All she was seeing was the monster leeching its teeth onto her best friend's throat. 

Ripping it out.

The blood. Oh god, the blood. 

Pure adrenaline forced Betty to her feet. She was stumbling towards what she hoped was the exit, blinking rapidly through blurry vision, when cool hands clamped down on her shoulders, forcefully twisting her around. Jughead Jones was in front of her, his eyes still ignited red, Kevin's blood staining his fangs, dripping down his shirt.

"So you're the famous Betty?" His grin widened, and Betty forgot how to scream. Kevin was behind her, discarded on the floor like he was nothing, lying in a stemming pool of blood. The boy's hand curled around her throat, squeezing, lifting her into the air like she was nothing. "Answer me." Jughead's tone was bored, and he rolled his eyes, slamming her into the wall. He tightened his grip, and Betty saw stars. Jughead inclined his head.

"You're the one whose been stalking us?"

Betty didn't reply. Couldn't reply. When she could only gasp for oxygen, kicking her legs, the boy's grip tightened around her throat, his fingers trailing over her cheeks. Betty reached out, fighting for breath, grasping for anything in her vicinity. 

Her fingers caught something, a vase, and she wrapped her fingers around it, getting a good hold, before slamming it as hard as she could over the actors head. 

The actors grip fell away, and he dropped to the ground, Betty falling with him. When she regained her breath, Betty crawled over to Kevin, her chest wracking with sobs. The boy was motionless. When she felt for a heartbeat, there was nothing. 

A disgruntled groan made her jump, fight or flight taking over. Jughead looked confused, rubbing the back of his head. His iris's clouded back to human green, fangs nowhere to be seen. He blinked at her, before his eyes widened, and Betty caught panic flash in his eyes. His lips twisted into a frown. "What are you doing in my trailer?"

His eyes didn't stray on Betty, though. They flicked to Kevin's body. Jughead let out a soft moan, choking out a cry. "Oh god, not again!" the actor jumped to his feet, before glancing at Betty. "I..." he shook his head, "No, fuck, this isn't what it looks like. It was.. it was him."

"Him?" she parroted, trembling. "You're crazy!"

Betty stood up slowly, swiping at her eyes, before seeing her chance. She lunged towards the door, but Jughead blocked her, and she in turn grabbed a canister of deodorant and sprayed it in his face. The boy hissed through a fanged grimace, but didn't budge. He settled her with a glare. "See, now I just stink of lavender and marshmallows."

"Get away from me." She whispered, tossing the deodorant aside.

Jughead looked uncomfortable. "I can... uh... I can explain." His brows wrinkled. "I think."

"Explain?!" she shrieked, stumbling back. It was baffling how the actor had gone from stone cold killer to deer-caught-in-the-headlights in a matter of minutes. "You're-" 

"The greatest actor of our generation?" He sent her a sheepish smile. 

"A vampire!" Betty squeaked. "How can you even... no. No, I don't even care," she let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm calling the cops. You killed my best friend."

Jughead's eyes widened. "No, I didn't," he groaned. "Well, I guess I did. But if you listen to me, Becky-"

"It's Betty!"

"Right. Sorry. Betty," Jughead pinched the skin between his eyebrows. "It's a really long story."

"I don't care." Betty couldn't take her eyes off of Kevin. "I'm calling the cops."

She was backing away, not looking where she was going, when she bumped into something soft, something _moving._

Betty twisted around, only to find herself face to face with a smiling redhead.

The boy wore a light blue short sleeved shirt and jeans, pasty skin covered in the same rune like symbols. The boy's hair was a lot darker in person, compared to the billboard, where it looked radiant. In real life, it was an unbrushed mess hanging in comically wide eyes.

Archie, Betty thought. Jughead's cast mate, and the main star of Strangelove. 

"Oh fuck." Archie sent Jughead dagger eyes. The actor took one look at Kevin's body, and then glanced back at Betty. "We're so fired."


	2. Chapter 2

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Hey! Can you guys do me a favour and comment down below if you’re reading? Thanks for giving this weird fic a chance so far ♥️

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos if you liked and want more, and a comment if you'd like to give your thoughts! I'd love to know what you think! Thanks so much for reading!


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